Divine Intervention
by PrincessOfNerds
Summary: The Joker is knocked into a coma, and his spirit is thrown out of his body. His body on a feeding tube, The Joker's disgruntled spirit is forced to deal with it. Then he is pulled to a spiritually sensitive girl who can see him. Not as dark as my others!
1. What the Hell? Or Heaven? Or Purgatory?

**So I'm bored and I can't seem to stop writing about the Joker lately, and I thought I'd attempt to write one that had a real plot and that wasn't just smut, LOL. I will warn you that this story will attempt to dabble into a more human side of the Joker, so be warned. There will be a little romancey type stuff, but it wont be just that. Anyway, R&R! ;)**

***

"What the hell happened? Where am I?" The Joker thought this in his brain; did he still have a brain? The last thing he remembered was having yet another epic battle with that annoying goody good Batman on the rainy streets of Gotham. Batman's large tank like vehicle had side swiped his big rig full of clown goons, causing it to swerve and crash into the wall of a building. Then he remembered his posse pouring out of the vehicle, with himself shooting erratically at the tank and taunting Batman to run him over whilst laughing like a hyena on nitrous oxide.

And then he heard a loud 'pop!' and…

The Joker's vision came into focus. He noticed everything seemed a lot clearer all of a sudden. Crystal clear. As if someone had gauged out his eyes and replaced them with super telescopic god like eyes. He could see the cracks in the buildings a mile away, and the sprinkles of rain splattering on the walls. He felt lighter than a feather and he could feel his entity beginning to drift upward.

That's when he looked down and noticed a body beneath him, lying lifeless in the street in front of another large truck. The man was lying face down on the pavement, and his makeup was running off his face from the rain hitting it. A man in a clown mask hurriedly hopped out of the big rig and ran to the body, kneeling down in front of it. "Boss, boss!" he chirped in a panicky voice.

"Oh God **damn** it!" The Joker fumed. It was a big rig full of his back up that he had been waiting for. His own idiot henchman had hit him with the truck! The Joker found he was able to make himself float swiftly down to where his entity was beside the worried masked man. He latched two 'see through' hands around his neck, not even startled by the fact that he could now see through his own hands. "Chuckles! If you killed me I'll **murder** you!" The Joker roared, though no one could hear him and his hands went right through Chuckles's neck. Chuckles felt a cold chill run up his spine and he shook it off.

" Damn it, **damn** it! No, no, no!" The Joker bellowed and attempted to kick Chuckles with his foot going right through his body. "This isn't how it was supposed to happen! I wasn't supposed to die **this** way! Batman was supposed to kill me, not you! I'll haunt you until the end of your days! I'll haunt your Grand kids! I am so going poltergeist on your ass!"

The Joker's spirit continued to attempt to pummel his men, even as the Batman pummeled them himself, knocking most of them out and disarming them of their weapons. And right up until Batman called the police and an ambulance, and his men were cuffed and shoved to the ground in a line. A group of EMT's now surrounded the Joker's body, trying to revive him.

The Joker watched angrily, irritated that Batman was the one to call an ambulance. He was actually trying to save him! This was it! It was over. Even at his death Batman continued to taunt him with his sickening strive to be good. He truly was incorruptible. The Joker had lost and now his spirit would be doomed to forever wander the earth annoyed.

"He's still alive." One of the EMT's said. "He's just unconscious." The Joker's spiritual ears perked. The EMT's loaded his body onto a stretcher and rolled him into the back of the ambulance. The Joker's spirit flew into the back of the ambulance and attempted to reenter his body. But upon his endeavor he felt as though there was a magnetic force pushing him away and preventing him from reentering his body. And he tried, and tried again, and again, his spirit furiously bouncing off the invisible force field rapidly.

The Joker growled and spat out every curse word he could think of. The young EMT that held a breathing mask to the Joker's face felt a cold chill surge through his body as the Joker's spirit hovered near him.

***

The Joker's body was rushed into the hospital, and his spirit now watched with astonishment as the doctors and nurses worked hastily in order to make sure the Joker stayed alive. "Do they realize who I am?" The Joker thought to himself. Then he snickered at the sight of them working so vigorously in order to prevent a mass murdering maniac from dying. It was probably better for them that they did though, because once he was able to reenter his body, he planned to wreak havoc, starting with Chuckles, and now he just might spare this place from his wrath.

***

The Joker was even more irate now, as they hooked his body to a feeding tube and announced that he was in a serious coma and didn't know when he would recover from it. "What kind of worthless doctor are you!" the Joker screamed into the head doctor's ear. "Jolt me awake dammit! Electrocute me! Set me on fire! Do something! I can't **live** like this!"

The doctor felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "Is it chilly in here?" he asked the two nurses. They were both staring at the Joker's body with apprehensive expressions.

"With all do respect doctor," one of the nurses spoke up. "This **is** the Joker here. He's a mass murdering criminal terrorist. I know it's not P.C but..." She paused and shared eye contact with one of the other nurses; she was already nodding in agreement. "Wouldn't it be better for the world if we just, you know, unplugged him? He's just going to rot in here anyway."

"What?!" the Joker glared at her with his ghostly eyes. "Why you little..! You're just lucky I'm half dead sweetheart! Now I changed my mind. When I get back in my body, I'm coming to deal with **you** First!" He waggled a finger near her and the nurse shivered.

"It does feel like there's a draft in here," said the nurse.

"I'll have to have one of the hospital staff check the temperatures on the air conditioning," Said the doctor. "As for our patient here. Yes he is a wanted criminal mastermind. But the law states that we cannot pull the plug without legal consent. So we're just going to have to keep him here until the state intervenes and decides what is to be done with him."

With that the doctors and nurses left the room, leaving the Joker's body in a bed hooked to a feeding tube. The Joker glared at his own body. He was even angry at **it**. If he could he would punch his own body in the face, just for having the nerve to be in a coma and not allowing him to reenter it.

He attempted to merge with it several more times, before giving up and proceeding to float around the room angrily. If he had physical hair, he would be ripping it out by now. He ran his fingers through his ghostly hair. He did actually feel hair there, so he tugged and pulled on it but felt no pain, and no chunks came out in his hands. Also disappointing. He couldn't even take his anger out on anything. "Oh what has fate bestowed upon me?" the Joker talked to himself dramatically. "What the hell am I supposed to do now? I'm not dead and I'm not alive. Am I going to be stuck in this room until my body decides to wake up or die completely?"

After the Joker had asked himself that question, a radiant ball of golden light appeared in the middle of the room, starting out small, and then quickly expanding, opening up a brilliant indescribable porthole of beauty. Any normal person would have been instantly attracted to it and would have a sudden undeniable urge to merge with it. But the Joker merely shot it a devious glare of disgust.

He licked his lips. It was a force of habit and he expected to feel the risen skin of his scars there, but instead he felt smooth skin. Smoother than any females skin he had ever trailed his fingers over. Of course he wouldn't have scars there. He was no longer in his body. The fact his skin now felt softer than a female's also had him grimacing in disgust. He preferred to have rugged skin with stubble and scars and bullet hole wounds. It made him a man! Plus it gave him character. Now he felt like a feminine pixie. He had an abrupt urge to stick a knife in his spiritual skin and carve himself up some character, but of course that idea was futile as well.

The Joker leered nastily at the dazzling light. "Oh, you think I'm going to come with you do ya? Do you really think I'm that stupid? Oh no, no, no." The Joker scoffed at it. "Ya know, I didn't think you existed…whatever you are. Quite impressive I must say. But my time isn't up. Oh no. I have a lot more havoc to wreak. So you think I'm coming with you? Do you? Do you think I even want to?" The Joker cackled spitefully, and pulled further away from the light. "Do you think I want to?!" He yelled at the light. Beneath his maniacal laughter there was a hint of pain.

At the Joker's hateful bellowing, the light shrank and then vanished, leaving the hospital room cold and empty. The Joker felt himself sneer. "Good riddance," he spat. Then he felt himself being pulled upward. Part of it was his own doing, and part of it was a slight magnetic force pulling him away from that room. He pondered how far he could travel away from his body. He wondered if he was confined to stay near it.

He soon found out that it didn't matter how far he traveled from his body. He floated to the upper levels of the hospital, seeing hospital staff at work on the floor above, and then he floated straight through the roof. Then higher and higher he drifted, taking in a full view of Gotham in all its darkened glory, and the ominous rain clouds that hovered above it.

The Joker floated in place for a few moments, still bitter about what had happened. He was a lost and befuddled spirit and he didn't know where to go. He was surprised no hellhounds had shown up to drag him off to the black abyss yet. At least that might be interesting. Of course, he knew those myths weren't true. He wouldn't be so lucky. He felt a sudden magnetic pull again, and his spirit instinctively followed it.

"Where the hell am I going?" The Joker asked himself. It seemed half of him was willingly letting himself be pulled along and half of him was trying to fight it. But he was so frazzled at the moment that he no longer cared. He just had the dire need to destroy something.

The magnetic force was pulling his spirit through the suburbs and beyond, to downtown Gotham. It seemed his speed was picking up, and he watched the streets and buildings swish by, faster and faster. His celestial eyes saw children and families sleeping peacefully in their homes. Children sleeping with their dogs sprawled out at the foot of their beds. He saw couples arguing, and alcoholics drinking themselves to oblivion alone in their rooms. He saw lovers making love, and drug dealers making sales. He saw homes being burglarized and hookers picking up customers on the streets. He saw a group of gang members brutally beating a man who owed them money.

Faster and faster he swooshed over Gotham. If he had a physical body, he might be sick. He felt like Superman, traveling like a speeding bullet until he reached a modest little apartment complex on the east outskirts of Gotham.

***

Shirley Winslow was half asleep when she felt a tall apparition, standing over her at her bedside. For a moment, she felt she was still dreaming as her eyelids barely creaked open. Then a cold chill stabbed at her body, like a chilling breeze on a frozen winter morning. Shirley violently bolted upright. Panting heavily, she scoured her room. No one was there. She shivered and felt the hairs on her arms standing up. She cuddled herself and rubbed her arms. "What a disturbingly vivid dream," She mumbled to herself. Looking around the room anxiously once more, she laid herself back down and buried herself in her covers. It wasn't long before she fell back asleep.

The Joker licked his ghostly lips, and watched the young girl lying in bed, clad in her pink nightgown. **She** was the one giving off the magnetic force and he wanted to know why. He felt his entity being pulled in her direction. He watched her chest heaving up and down from her breathing. Her dirty blond hair was sprawled out on her pillow, and her face was pretty and fair, skin like porcelain. Her lips were full and parted cutely as she slept.

The Joker growled within himself. He found her to be quite beautiful, and the fact that she was lying alone in her bed, asleep and so vulnerable made him wish that he were back in his physical body more than ever. But if he didn't have a physical body, how was he still experiencing lust? An assumption suddenly entered the Joker's mind. Perhaps this was his Hell. Still feeling urges and never being able to fulfill them. "If that's the case, I guess the **Jokes** on me eh?" The Joker spoke to himself and to whatever higher power could hear him. "Damn it. **God** Damn it." The Joker muttered irritably.

***

To be continued. Mwahahaha.


	2. A Restless Spirit

**Sorry I haven't updated this in so long. I've been too caught up in my other story and kind of ignored this one. But I have an idea where I am taking this story too and I would really like to finish this one as well. This chapter is much shorter than what I usually write, but I just wanted to get more opinions on this idea. Oh and I'm sorry but I had to change to rating to M because...well I have a dirty mind and I just want to be safe LOL. Will probably have bad language, violence and sexual content in the future because I can't resist, but this is also much lighter than what I usually write. This is going to show a more human side to the Joker and well...you'll see when I actually write more! lol It will have sappiness and *feelings* and stuff LOL. Anyway please R&R!**

*******

The Joker's disgruntled spirit had been angrily floating around Shirley's tiny little studio apartment all night. "God what a dump," the Joker mumbled to himself. "This place is smaller than my closet." He had tried leaving her residence several times, but an unbelievably strong magnetic force kept pulling him back. He couldn't seem to travel more than twenty feet away from this girl. And it was really ticking him off. What was the point of being in the same room with a curvy little vixen when he couldn't even touch her?

He hovered over the pictures she had up on her shelves. It appeared to be pictures of her as a child with her parents. Apparently she was an only child. "Cute," the Joker muttered sarcastically, as he looked over a picture of her as a little girl riding a horse. Then he continued to irritably pace around the room. God this was getting boring. How long had it been since he was hit by that truck? Five, six hours? What was to happen to him now? Was he doomed to spend eternity like this?

"Well, uh, God…is that what you like to be called buddy?" The Joker spoke to whatever force could hear him. "I knew you had to be a dick. You're getting a big old laugh out of this aintchya? If you are indeed the reason this is happening to me. If this is your idea of a joke you've got one sick sense of humor. Good one asshole." The Joker spat hatefully. The Joker was coming to the conclusion that he was right all along. He always assumed that if 'God' did exist that he created mankind as a toy to amuse himself, like a big kid with a magnifying glass hovering over a bunch of ants.

The Joker glared maliciously at the young girl who had been sleeping peacefully in her bed for the last several hours. He wanted to know why he was drawn to her energy. He wanted to know why he was stuck there and he wanted to know **now**. He angrily tried swatting at the pictures and knickknacks she had displayed on her shelves, his hand going straight through them. He whipped his ghostly hands back and fourth wildly, trying to create some sort of impact. Trying with all his might to knock something off of the shelves. He desperately wanted to break something. He **needed** to destroy something.

His attempts continued to have no impact. He furiously floated over the sleeping girl, her face holding the appearance of peaceful innocence. He leaned over and brought his celestial face less than an inch away from her ear listening to the sound of her quiet breathing. His hearing was so enhanced that he could hear the sound of her beating heart. He could actually **feel** her heart beating. "Why am I being pulled to you hm? What's so special about you, huh doll face?" He brushed his ghostly hand along her forehead and Shirley stirred in her sleep. Then he tapped a finger on her nose and she crinkled her nose in response.

A dainty hand reached up to rub her nose in her sleep then she turned over on her side. "So," the Joker raised a golden brown eyebrow with sudden interest. "You can feel that, huh kiddo?" he brushed a hand over her cheek again. She seemed to stir a little in her sleep some more then she instinctively grabbed her covers and pulled them up over her head. The Joker growled at this. He tried grabbing at her covers to pull them back down so he could continue to bug her in her sleep, but he couldn't. This only helped to further infuriate him. He **hated** feeling powerless.

He began taking his anger out on her lamp that stood on the nightstand by her bed. He whipped his fists through it, cursing up a storm. He cursed the heavens and all things that ever existed since the beginning of time. "God damn it, God **damn** it!!" He bellowed while flailing his arms through the lamp. "God damn it, I can't be like this, I'm the goddamn Joker! I own this city! This city is **nothing** without me! I'm the g…" The Joker startled himself when his attempts at knocking over the lamp finally seemed to work. The lamp fell off of the nightstand and landed onto the floor with a loud 'thud!' causing Shirley to jump out of her covers with a loud gasp.

The Joker immediately felt her heart rate increase as Shirley's big grayish-blue eyes looked down at her lamp on the floor with a startled expression. Then her heart slowed down again and she took in a heavy breath. She wearily rubbed her eyes with a groan then looked over at her alarm clock. It was nearly six thirty in the morning. Shirley figured she might as well start her day. She lazily threw off her covers and crawled out of bed.

The Joker now watched her intently from the corner of the room. She picked up her lamp with a befuddled expression and set it back on her nightstand. When she bent over, the Joker glared lustfully at her bottom through the pink fabric of her nightgown. God damn it, why was he still feeling these urges?!

Shirley trudged over towards her vanity. She stopped for a minute and turned sideways in front of her vanity mirror, and grimaced as she looked at the size of her bottom. "God I gotta lose weight," she mumbled miserably to herself. The Joker could almost chuckle at this. Typical girl. She was thin as a toothpick and had nice curves and yet she thought she was fat. Yep, typical dumb chick. No logic. The Joker always did think women were nuts. He was a male chauvinist pig and proud of it! If they elected a female president he would actually jump for joy, because that would make taking over the country so much easier for him. Yep after Gotham he planned to expand his horizons. That is, if his dumb ass of a body ever woke up from that stupid coma.

Shirley sat in front of her vanity mirror and picked up a brush. She frowned at her ratted hair and grunted as she attempted to run the brush through her tangles. The Joker felt her magnetic pull even from the other side of the room. Shirley suddenly felt a chill run up her spine. She felt butterflies erupt in her stomach, and a frightening feeling washed over her entire being. She felt an ominous presence lingering behind her. For a moment she was frozen. Then she immediately whipped her head around. No one was there.

She turned back to her mirror and tried shaking off that eerie feeling. She hadn't had a feeling like that in years. Not since she was a little girl. It couldn't be coming back. She refused to believe it. Her parents sent her to therapy when she was little to cure her of that 'illness.' She had fought it with tooth and nail ever since and she assumed it would never come back. It couldn't be coming back. She didn't **want** it to come back. It brought her too much of a headache and had other kids picking on her because they thought she was crazy. She couldn't go through that pain again. That isolation.

She sighed deeply and continued to brush out her hair. She began humming nervously to herself, trying to ignore the fact that the hairs on the back of her neck were now standing straight up. Then she saw him. A tall man with golden brown hair all clad in white with a flawless face that was contorted into a bitter scowl stood menacingly behind her. Shirley only gave herself a second to glance at him in the mirror then she twirled around again and jumped out of her chair while clutching at her chest. She felt she would have a heart attack.

"Jesus," Shirley spoke in a hushed, frightened voice.

"Oh no, no, no, no. You've got the wrong guy angel dove," A low uncanny voice reached Shirley's ears and she could almost faint. The voice sounded unnatural and if Shirley's heart rate increased anymore she was sure it would pop out of her chest. And he could feel her fear.

That's when he knew she could hear him. And it was obvious that she had seen him too. This was proving to be quite…interesting.

***

**Okay a short chapter but what do you think of this idea? let me know. I actually have many ideas for it in the future. **


	3. A Strange Meeting

**Okay sorry it took so long to update. Too caught up in my other story as usual. But I'll try to update this one more. thank you for the reviews, and please R&R and let me know if this idea is lame or not. reviews always encourage me to right now. I'm having fun writing this one too so enjoy! (the characters will be developed more soon too)**

***

Shirley's eyes anxiously scanned the room. Eventually she caught sight of a tall shadowy figure lingering in the corner, and she felt her blood run cold. It was about this time that her fears were confirmed. There was something else in that apartment with her and it clearly wasn't human. At least, it wasn't human in the physical sense. She jolted backwards and felt her bottom slam against her mirror desk when the figure began to move forward.

It moved about a foot and then stopped. Then it moved another foot and then stopped, as if it were toying with her. Each time it maneuvered it did so with lightening speed. Shirley anxiously reached behind herself and fumbled all around her desk, searching for some type of weapon. A normal weapon would be useless against an entity like this, so she went with her instincts and felt around for her cross necklace. She hastily grabbed it and shakily held it up in front of her, silently warning this being to keep away from her.

She only got mock laughter in response. The dark shadowy figure was apparently quite amused by this. His laughter was low and unnerving, and he was secretly quite enjoying the look of fear on this pretty young girl's face. "K-keep away! Go back to where you came from! Shoo!" Shirley stuttered nervously.

The figure was moving closer and closer, and each time it moved it changed. It was slowly morphing into the form of a man, and its facial features were coming into view. "Oh I really wish I could darling girl, but uh, for some reason I can't. And it appears to be your fault," the spirit spoke in his low eerie voice. But as he took another step forward, his full body materialized and Shirley now saw the handsome young man who she had caught a glimpse of in the mirror.

His appearance didn't match his demonic voice. His appearance, in fact, looked angelic. He was almost breathtaking. A sparkling white robe was adorned about his gangly yet well toned body, and a mop of dark blond glittering hair was hanging over his face. His face was youthful yet manly, and his chocolate eyes, though dark, still managed to sparkle brilliantly along with the rest of his overwhelming exterior.

"So tell me," he said calmly, and his entity was now lingering inches away from Shirley's face. "Why am I here? Huh?!" he suddenly roared, and Shirley felt a cold chill blowing against her face.

She instinctively gripped her cross even harder, and she flinched at the sound of his low demonic voice. "I-I don't know!" Shirley squeaked. "I should ask you what you're doing here! I haven't seen ghosts since I was a little girl! I thought I was at peace! I thought I wasn't psycho anymore! Maybe you're not even real. You can't be real. Ghosts aren't real are they?" Shirley laughed to herself nervously. "Maybe if I keep telling myself you're not real you'll go away. Yes that's right. You're just a figment of my imagination. I must be half asleep. Now I'm just gonna close my eyes and when I open them you'll be gone."

"Oh I am indeed real little girl," The abnormally handsome Joker hissed.

Shirley shut her eyes tight. "No you're not," she countered. "You're not real, you're not real," she began to chant this phrase over and over again as she kept her eyes tightly shut.

"Hey," said the Joker, but Shirley ignored him and continued to chant that he wasn't real. "Hey!" the Joker said again, more irritably. "Look at me," he hissed. She still ignored him. He growled. "LOOK AT ME!" he roared and Shirley nearly leapt five feet off of the floor. Her eyes fluttered open again and she felt another cold chill blowing against her sensitive skin. She shivered in his presence, still clutching the cross against her chest.

"Aw you look nervous," the Joker mocked mirthlessly. "What's the matter little bunny? Is it the scars?"

"What scars?"

The Joker blinked and habitually licked his celestial lips. Then his beautiful face contorted into anger and Shirley yelped as his form advanced on her. She shivered as he brushed his ghostly hand across her cheek and he watched irritably as it passed right through her face, merely leaving goose bumps on her skin. He tried grabbing her arms but of course his fingers passed right through them. He could not grab onto anything physical.

He abruptly pushed himself away from Shirley and his spirit banged about the room, causing no damage. He was furious. His beautiful scars were gone, and he was completely powerless. He let out a horrifying blood-curdling yell, and right on time with his yelling, Shirley's alarm clock went off on her clock radio and it began playing Frank Sinatra's 'I Did It My Way.'

The Joker's spirit snapped his attention over to the clock radio and glared at it disdainfully. It was now blinking and it read 12:00 am as if it had been unplugged. Instead of assuming that he had caused the alarm to go off, he was only focused on the annoying music blaring out of the radio. "Turn that off! Turn that off now! I **hate** Frank Sinatra!" He bellowed. His sparkling celestial form turned back to the still shivering Shirley. "I said turn it off!"

Shirley jumped. "Okay…okay," she said trying to calm him down and trotted over to the clock radio where she proceeded to turn it off. When she passed by his form, she felt that familiar cold chill again. "There, okay? See? Happy?" She turned back to the irritated spirit.

"No," the Joker said coldly, glaring at her maliciously.

"Look, what do you want from me? Are you a lost spirit looking for the light?" Shirley pointed to the ceiling. "Well it can't be hard to find. Isn't that where you're **supposed** to be right now? Look if you're really some kind of confused ghost..."

"I am **not** a ghost!" The Joker yelled, nearly making Shirley keel over again. His spirit advanced on her once more with lightening speed. Shirley had to remind herself that this entity apparently couldn't physically harm her. She found herself backing up and sitting on her bed as the spirit hovered over her. "Not yet anyway," Said the Joker. "My body is still alive. And I want it back. But instead I'm stuck here with you. And I can't seem to pull myself away. Why is that hmm? You said you've seen uh…ghosts before? What are you some kind of little witch? Huh?!"

"What? No!" Shirley snapped. "That's ridiculous. There's no such...wait. What do you mean your body's still alive? Who the heck are you anyway?"

The Joker glared at her in bewilderment. She really didn't know who he was. Well as soon as he told her his story, he could only assume that she'd be even **more** frightened.

**

After the Joker had told Shirley his story, how he was the infamous Joker and the like, Shirley could almost faint. Of course she knew who he was. He was the most feared man in Gotham, and the most famous other than the masked vigilante known as Batman. And this morning, as Shirley turned on her small dumpy television, it was soon evident that the Joker was the main topic of the Good Morning Gotham news hour.

"_Hello, I'm Bill Butler with good morning Gotham,"_ the bald man with glasses spoke on T.V. Shirley watched with fixated interest as the Joker's disgruntled spirit hovered over her shoulder, squinting at the small television set.

"Christ doll. Living in a flat the size of a closet? Okay I can handle that. But couldn't you have gotten a better T.V? This things probably older than **you** are and the picture is even blurry to me and I don't even have physical eyes anymore!" The Joker spat.

Shirley turned to him and glared at him touchily. "Well sorry, but this is all I could afford."

The Joker chuckled at that. "Afford? You know you don't really need money to…"

"Shh," Shirley quieted him as she watched the news.

"_We now take you live to the recently rebuilt Gotham general where the Joker's body is apparently in a coma. Picketers have been gathered around outside of the hospital all morning, apparently furious that the doctors refuse to unplug his feeding tube."_

The screen flashed to a reporter who was at the scene live, interviewing picketers in the street outside of Gotham General. They were all holding signs that said things such as 'Murderers Must Be Murdered!' and 'No Mercy Shown for the Wicked!' and 'Let The Clown Meet His Maker!'

"_He's a terrorist is what he is,"_ a male picketer spoke to the interviewer on the street.

"_I say let the Batman unplug him himself. He has our permission!"_ Another guy yelled.

"_I think those pussy liberals have gone too far,"_ another man grunted. _"Why waste tax payers money to keep a mass murderer alive?"_

"_Think of the children!"_ A woman wailed.

Shirley could feel the Joker's anger. She felt an uncanny feeling swirling in the pit of her stomach. He lingered behind her, scowling at the people on T.V with all the malice that any mortal could possess.

On the other side of the pro death picketers another group had formed._ "I say if we let him die we're no better than he is," _a rather fruity looking man told the reporter.

"_Don't kill for me!"_ A hippy woman spoke to the interviewer. The peace protest group all carried signs that read 'We Can't Play God,' and 'Killing A Criminal Is Still Murder.'

"Gotta love liberals," the Joker chuckled evilly.

The television showed a mug shot of the Joker, all decked out in his makeup, gruesome scars and all, and flashing a toothy grin.

"My god," Shirley breathed. "If you didn't tell me who you were, I'd have never guessed in a million years," she could almost shiver at the looks of his mug shot alone.

"Dammit," the Joker grumbled when he saw his wonderfully gorgeous (if he did say so himself) painted mug on screen. "I **need** my body back. I need it back **now**," he growled. He ran his fingers through his perfectly soft hair. "Hey…hey kid," Shirley turned and looked up at the sparkling eyed Joker who looked nothing like his fearsome mug shot. "What do I look like anyway? I can't goddamn see myself in a mirror. Am I at least…somewhat intimidating?"

"Well your voice definitely is," said Shirley. "But if you want my complete blunt answer…and I'm probably going to kick myself for saying this but…you're really actually quite um…handsome," the Joker glared down at her, and licked his perfect lips. "Um, gorgeous actually. Like…overwhelmingly man pretty. I mean I can't believe you're the same person as…"

"Man pretty?" The Joker scoffed. "I've turned into a goddamn pixie!"

"Hey I'm just being honest," said Shirley. "If it's any consolation, your personality kind of lowers your looks a little bit."

The Joker raised an eyebrow. "Quite a feisty comment. Wouldn't have expected that out of some little girl who seems so weak and fragile. If I was in my physical body, I could probably snap you with one arm. Like glass," he hissed.

"_And one thing's for sure,"_ Bill Butler spoke on T.V. _"We can all sleep a little more soundly knowing that this madman is off the streets. Back to you Lola." _

After that, the old television set started getting fuzzy. Shirley growled and slapped the top of it then messed with its antenna. "Fricken shitty ass television set!"

The Joker gasped mockingly. "Wouldn't have pegged you for someone that cursed either," he teased.

"Yeah well. This damn thing is..." The picture came back into view, and the news showed the time on the screen. It was now 7:35 am. "Crap! I gotta get ready for work!" She quickly turned off the television and trotted towards her closet. She was so wrapped up by the thought of having the Joker's ghost in her apartment, that she had completely lost track of time. She didn't know how, but somehow an hour had already flown by.

The Joker watched her as she fumbled through her closet looking for an outfit she was going to wear that day. "Wait a minute," the Joker growled. "What about me? Why in the hell am I here? Tell me!" he yelled.

"How in the hell am I supposed to know?" Shirley snapped back, now more concerned with catching her bus rather than worrying about this lost soul. "Do I look like God to you?" She turned back to her closet and pulled out a black shirt, then threw open her drawer and pulled out a pair of blue jeans.

"Well you **must** know something," the Joker growled. "You are psychic or something aren't you?" He was now floating on the other side of the room and he could feel her magnetic pull getting stronger the farther he pulled away from her.

"I'd rather not be," said Shirley, as she frantically pulled out some socks. She hesitated for a moment before she pulled out a pair of white cotton panties, and quickly gathered them up with the rest of her selected clothing.

The Joker's sharp celestial orbs noticed her cotton panties. "White and cotton?" He chuckled. "How cute. You're a little virgin aintchya?"

Shirley gasped at the incredibly rude ghost and huffed. "That's none of your business!" she snapped. She gathered up her clothes in her arms and headed for the bathroom, and then halted. She turned back to the spirit. "Look, I don't know why you're hear. But as you have said, your body is clearly alive…somehow. Maybe this is just an out of body experience. But I don't know how to help you. All I know is your spirit is obviously in limbo and you're either going to have to go into the light, or go back to your body."

"Well, well, well," said the Joker. "Thank you little Miss obvious. Ya think of that all by yourself didya?" he glared at her with a sarcastic scowl on his face. "I've **tried** to go back to my body. Believe me I've tried. And I've failed. And now I'm stuck here with you. Because every time I try to leave, some invisible force keeps yanking me right back. So what do you suggest we do here hmm?"

"Well," said Shirley. She eyed the cross necklace on her mirror desk and an idea entered her head. The Joker noticed that her blue eyes were fixated on that cross. "We could try to summons the light here and.."

"**No!"** The Joker said dangerously. "No, no, no, no. You try to do that little one and I'll make sure you summons an army of demons instead of you know who. Not that I think it'll work anyway, but I'd be rather upset. Him and I aren't on the best of terms, and I go where I please. I am my own God ya see," The Joker hissed.

"Okay, okay," said Shirley. "Why don't you try leaving this place again then? Maybe if you concentrate hard enough you can. That's our only other option. Other than that I'm clueless."

The Joker glared at her for a moment, his handsome face still set in a bitter grimace. Skeptically, he decided to try and pull further away from her again. He backed away, further and further. Shirley watched his brilliant form with interest as he completely slipped through her wall.

He passed in between the walls of the apartments and found himself in Shirley's neighbor's home. He floated through the kitchen and passed right through an elderly woman who was happily humming a tune and cooking on the stove. Her husband was sitting on their couch in the living room, watching the morning news on T.V. The Joker watched them, and it was obvious they couldn't see him.

The woman laid food out on the table. "George come and eat breakfast," she called to her husband. He didn't hear her. "George come and eat breakfast!" She yelled again. Even though the Joker was a spirit, he could have sworn his ears were ringing at the woman's loud voice.

"I'm comin' I'm comin'!" The old man grunted back and had a hard time getting out of his couch. He scuttled over towards the table and passed right through the Joker's entity. He stopped for a moment, and felt a chill run up his spine. "Ethel, is it nippy in here to you?" He asked his wife whilst rubbing his arms.

"No," said the woman. "You're just getting old. Now come and eat," she motioned for him to sit at the table with her.

The Joker rolled his spiritual eyes and tried traveling farther. It was only when he reached the end of the old couple's apartment that he could go no further. He felt that magnetic force suddenly take hold again and he was yanked back through the apartment, and through the conjoined walls. He could hear a whooshing sound as he was being pulled and the force didn't stop pulling him until he was right back in Shirley's apartment, inches away from her form. It felt like he was connected to a rubber band, and the more he tried to stretch it, the harder it pulled him back.

The Joker just casually glared down at Shirley with an 'I told you so' expression on his face. He crossed his arms irritably.

"Didn't work huh?" Asked Shirley who merely stood there holding her bunched up clothing.

"Of course not," said the Joker nonchalantly. "God **damn** it," he huffed.

"Alright, I wish I knew what else to do but um…I really have to take a shower now and get ready for work. So uh, I trust you'll stay out here? Please?" Shirley begged with her eyes.

The Joker's glistening lips curled into a mischievous smirk. "Oh sure, sure."

"I mean it," said Shirley. "I don't need some perverted…ghost, spirit, whatever you are, watching me while I shower. So please, let me have some privacy?"

"And uh…what are you gonna do if I don't give it to ya?" asked the Joker.

"If you start to spy on me with everything I do such as…taking a shower, going to the bathroom or any other personal moments, I'll march down to that hospital and unplug you myself!" Shirley growled.

The Joker chuckled. "How cute. Sure doll face, you just try it," he spoke to her as if she were a child. "And even if you could get passed the entrance, I doubt I'd be going anywhere anyway. Then you'd be **sure** that I'd be stuck here with you forever because I'd then have no body to go back to. Boy kiddo. I didn't know you liked me **that** much," he snickered.

"Uhg," Shirley grumbled. "Alright look," she put her hand on her forehead. "If you promise to give me some privacy then…well…I promise that as soon as I get out of work today, I'll try to figure out how to help you okay?"

The Joker hovered thoughtfully for a moment, smiling impishly at her. "Hmmm," He mused. "Alright. I suppose," he chuckled.

Shirley looked at him for a moment, not fully trusting him. "Okay then," With one final suspicious glance at the Joker, she walked into her bathroom and shut the door behind her, locking it on the other side. The Joker chuckled at the sound of her locking the door, knowing full well it was useless.

In her tiny little bathroom, Shirley put her clothes on her towel rack, and then hastily took off her nightgown. She was now standing there topless with only her panties on. It wasn't long before she felt a familiar foreboding presence pass through her door. She now felt goose bumps forming on her skin. The Joker laughed uncannily and ran a finger up her exposed back. Being already more sensitive than the average human, Shirley suddenly felt like an ice cube was being scraped up her spine.

She gasped and quickly twirled around, covering her breasts with her nightgown. "Joker!" she roared. "Please! I'm begging you! I **have** to get ready for work!"

The Joker chuckled, his deep voice echoing in Shirley's ears and his unnaturally handsome features stretching into a long hearty grin. "Awww, is the widdle bunny shy?" he snickered. "Sorry doll. I'm already bored enough as it is and this seems to be the only thing that I can amuse myself with right now."

Shirley huffed and growled. "Alright, alright look," she sighed heavily, still clutching her nightgown over her chest. "What if I found someone that could help you? A spiritual advisor of sorts. Someone who knows all about this…afterlife stuff. Maybe better than I do. Then will you please let me have my privacy?"

The Joker pondered for a moment. "It isn't the psychic friend's network is it?"

"No," Shirley laughed nervously. "Please. In case you can't tell I'm more um, psychic than they are apparently."

"Alright then, who?" The Joker growled.

"I'll tell you **after** you let me take my shower," said Shirley, begging him with her eyes again.

"Hmmm," the Joker tabbed his ghostly chiseled chin. "Alright. But you better not be bull shitting meee," he spoke in a sing-song voice.

Shirley frantically shook her head. "Alright. Take a shower then. Better hurry or you'll be late for work," the Joker sniggered.

Shirley grumbled under her breath and hopped into her small shower than yanked the curtain closed. She tossed her nightgown over the curtain along with her panties, and hurriedly turned the water on, just wanting to get in and out, knowing full well a creepy and perverted man spirit was just on the other side of her drape.

The Joker habitually licked his lips once more, eying the shadow of her figure through the thin curtain. All he'd have to do was float forward a few inches and he'd be right next to a naked little vixen. Perhaps he **could** find things to amuse himself with while he was stuck in this pre-dic-a-ment.

***

**I'm such a dork lol. Anyway R&R :)**


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